Chapter 2 - Room 411
Warren stood up, smoothing his jacket, and looked at Marcus and the insurance adjuster. "We’re going to Room 411."
"Boss, that's a massive mistake," Marcus hissed, falling into step beside Warren as they headed toward the elevators. "If there’s an impending lawsuit, any personal involvement or financial assistance from the company can be construed as an admission of fault by your legal team. We let the hospital handle social services."
"Shut up, Marcus," Warren said quietly, but the venom in his tone made the lawyer snap his mouth shut.
They rode the elevator in suffocating silence. When the doors slid open on the fourth floor, the smell of antiseptic and old paper hit them instantly. Room 411 was at the very end of the corridor, the door half-open.
Through the narrow gap, Warren saw a woman lying motionless in the hospital bed, hooked up to a rhythmic, hissing ventilator that breathed for her. Her face was pale, bruised along the temple from the impact, her brown hair splayed across the white pillow.
Beside the bed sat a nurse, checking an IV drip.
Warren pushed the door open fully. The nurse looked up, startled, ready to scold whoever was intruding, but the moment she saw Warren’s sharp, executive posture—and the trailing entourage behind him—her expression shifted to something resembling bitter exhaustion.
"Are you family?" the nurse asked, her voice tight.
"No," Warren said, stepping further into the room. "I'm... an acquaintance. I met her daughter downstairs. How bad is it?"
"It’s bad," the nurse sighed, setting the chart down on the bedside tray. "Her name is Sarah Pike. She’s got severe internal trauma from the crash, but the real issue is her heart. She had a pre-existing congenital cardiomyopathy that was stable—manageable with medication and routine checkups. But the trauma of the collision threw her into acute heart failure. She needs a specialized valve replacement and immediate cardiac intervention, or she won't make it forty-eight hours."
"Then get her transferred to a major cardiothoracic center in Louisville," Warren commanded immediately. "Fly her out by chopper. Bill my corporate account."
The nurse let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Corporate account? Mister, nobody is flying her anywhere, and no specialist is touching her."
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Warren frowned. "Why not? I just told you, I'll cover the cost."
"Because her insurance was canceled three days ago," the nurse said, her eyes flashing with anger as she looked at Warren’s expensive suit. "Some automated corporate restructuring policy through her employer flagged her medical file, stripped her coverage retroactively, and now the hospital financial clearance board won't approve the surgical transfer. She’s uninsured."
